


Flight

by narsus



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Movie(s), Pre-Slash, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narsus/pseuds/narsus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He glances up at the departure boards, trying to figure out where Steve thinks he’s running off to this time...</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Avengers belongs to Marvel Studios, Joss Whedon and others.

Tony finds Steve sprawled across two angled seats and part of a table this time. One leg hooked through the strap of his bag and snoring softly.

“Come on, Cap. This is getting old.”

Steve doesn’t wake up. It’s not as if Tony’s expecting him to, not that he’s going to risk trying to dig into Steve’s bag to fish out his ticket, not after the last time.

“Fine.”

Tony throws himself down into the seat opposite. He’s well aware that he looks like a sulky child but figures he’s entitled to it right now. He glances up at the departure boards, trying to figure out where Steve thinks he’s running off to this time, so the Starbucks card that enters his line of vision is a surprise.

“Go buy yourself a coffee, doll.”

Steve’s asleep again before Tony can respond, or object to the fact that he’s taken the card from Steve automatically. He doesn’t like being handed things, he doesn’t like the obligation that comes with accepting anything from people, but somehow, along the way, Steve’s become more than ‘people’. Even if Steve keeps running off to the nearest airport. Even if Tony has now been on more commercial flights, in the last few months, than he’s ever been on in his life.

“I don’t _enjoy_ chasing after your geriatric ass, you know.”

Tony’s grumbling pointlessly as he stands up to go get that coffee. He’s going to keep that up as long as he has to. It wouldn’t do to have the world know that Tony Stark was developing what might even, eventually, become some kind of amiable relationship with Captain America of all people. He’d be expected to start rescuing puppies and baking apple pie otherwise, and God knows he can’t cook.

“Where are we going today anyway?”

Steve smiles, seemingly in his sleep, stretches and then settles back down.

“Reykjavik.”


End file.
